The Baptism
by faithluck
Summary: *My re-imagining of Rollo's baptism* Ragnar and Rollo encounter heavy opposition when they invade the territory of Gatlone, Spain. They assume the pillaging of this village will be like the rest. Surprisingly, they are met with equal force in Gatlone. To make it out alive they will have to agree to a treaty they have no intention of keeping. Well... Rollo intends to keep one thing.
1. Chapter 1

'We cannot, in good faith, align ourselves with Pagans.' The Dukes voice rang out over the crowd.

She stood in the front row off to the side of the other battle leaders in her clan.

She was not titled as i had learned by now, but respected as a great warrior by the men who fought alongside her.

As female warriors were few yet more common among our people, it was certainly a position of some significance among her's as she was presently the only one among them. Many of the warriors looked to her for guidance. She fought with skill and precision. She was intelligent in her kill, uncommonly skilled with the sword, and the men rallied around her for that. She could spur the hearts of men in battle with the pure sight of her passion for blood. She was a game changer. She was effectively the Spaniards warrior Queen.

She was a sight to behold. I couldn't look away from her. Her black unruly hair swayed in the breeze, and her dark brown eyes coldly looked on at the negotiations unfolding in front of her. She was all at once fearsome in her stance and posture, and yet decidedly small in stature and delicate in feature. Her Brown skin shimmered in the light of the sun, and I had never seen anything like her.

'Jarl Ragnar, you or one of your warriors must consent to be baptized in a show of sincerity and honor to our Lord. Only then can we truly negotiate in earnest.'

The instant Duke Hera uttered the words, I shouted across the crowd, "I will do it. I will be baptized a Christian."

A gasp was heard over the crowed as Ragnar smiled and bowed in my direction. His plan was on schedule, as was mine.

Duke Hera glanced at Ragnar for assurance.

'My brother Rollo will fulfill your requirement presently Duke Hera, so that we may return to more pressing matters.' Ragnar asserted, clearly losing his patience for the man.

'Very Well' he sighed glancing up at me, "Bishop.' He gestured toward a man in long white robes and a ridiculous looking hat.

The Bishop began to walk toward me.

"I will be baptized, but not by this man.' My voice boomed loudly and the Bishop stood frozen where he was, eyes as large as onions.

'He is the Bishop of Gatlone, Rollo, Brother of Ragnar, there are no other priests in the village.' said the Duke

'No priests. Illona.' I smirked in her direction. The crowd began to erupt, speaking over one another in increasingly loader voices.

The Duke raised his hand to quiet the onlookers.

She starred at me, expressionless, as if she didn't believe her own hears and did not wish her face to give anything away. This woman was frustratingly self-possessed.

'Illona? Illona the blacksmith's daughter?' He questioned.

'The very one.' I said assuredly, never taking my eyes from her.

'But she is not holy. She is a battle warrior and a bender of metal and weapon. The Bishop Espino is in the confidence of the Lord. Surely he should baptize you', beseeched the Duke.

'My brother wishes that the woman Illona baptize him.' Ragnar snarled at the Duke

'Illona, come' Duke Hera waved her over to him.

She stood there for a long moment just staring at me, her expression unreadable. I wondered if maybe she would refuse.

Duke Hera, cleared his throat and quieted the onlookers. "Enough!" He cried.

The crowd fell silent and all eyes settled upon her, this fearsome, lovely, unearthly thing. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as she took the first tentative step towards me. She paused in uncertainty and glanced around quickly, breaking our eye contact for the first time since I asked her to perform the baptism. She seemed to have decided something in her mind at just that moment and as she glanced back up in my direction she set her mouth in a grim line and strode toward me in resignation and what looked like a hint of amusement.

She stopped about a foot in front of me and i was unprepared at how affected i was by her nearness. She stood still and quiet in front of me, our gazes locked. The bishop walked over to hand her some kind of incense decanter and as he handed over the strange object she refused to even blink away from me. Perhaps she meant this intensity to be unnerving, perhaps she was trying to assert that she was up to the challenge, whatever it was? In any case, I felt like i was going to jump out of my skin. I held her gaze and grinned broadly to hide any hint of the electricity that was pulsing through my body. I felt I might explode if I didn't touch her soon. She was fantastic.

"Kneel." She said evenly up at me as the smoke filled decanter hung from a small chain in her hand.

I dropped to me knees in front her, eyes wide and unmoving.

She swung the decanter back and forth in front of me and then began to walk slowly around me repeating the movement. I watched her in fixed fascination. When she made her way around to face me again she leaned over close and put her hand on the right side of my chest and whispered "In Omne", she moved her hand over my chest to the left side and said "et Padre". I forgot to breath. She touched my forehead then my heart and softly muttered "et fille du spirit to santu". I gasped in a gulp of air.

Her eyes shifted as she looked dazedly at the hand she still had placed over my heart. She dropped her hand abruptly and said, "Come to the water".

I stood and followed her as she waded out from the shore. I wasn't aware that i was following so close behind her until she turned around half submerged in the water and I nearly collided in to her. I forgot anyone else was there. I could feel her startled breath on my chest and i was unable to move away. She took a step back and held out her hands. I turned around and began to lean back. As she cradled my side I slid slowly under the water. Her face was just above the water as mine submerged. I couldn't close my eyes, I just stared at her. And then it happened.

Beneath the murky water, I heard a loud muffled cry and the distinct sound of many swords hastily drawn up from their sheaths.

Still cradling me in her arms, Illona's eyes shot up to the river bank just as my clan began to attack hers. I knew this was it.

She looked back at me in disbelief, dropped her arms out from under me and began wrestling the current back toward the shore.

I shot up out of the water, determined, and lunged for her. I caught her by the waist as she turned and punched me squarely in the jaw. I stumbled slightly, taken aback by the blow, reached out desperately and grabbed her hair.

She sucked in a large breath and turned to slam her fist down on the top of my wrist. She broke my hold. As I lunged forward she grabbed the paring knife tucked in to her hip and swiftly sliced my shoulder. Amidst the sparing we had worked ourselves deeper and deeper in to the rushing of the river. I could see two men wading in to help her. I had to do something, and it had to be now. I pushed her; she lost her footing and fell back in to the current that launched her down the river. I dove after her, and grabbed ahold of her leg as the river drug as onward. She kicked and kicked and i held on for dear life. She hadn't lost her weapon. I could see the glint of silver underneath the water as she wrestled with the tide to strike me. I saw my chance. Just up head we would meet with a grouping of large rocks in the middle of the river. I let go of her leg and swam with all my might. I grabbed the back of her head and wacked it once against the rock. She blacked out.

I pulled her slumped form to my chest, rolled on to my back, and let the river carry us down to the waiting boat below.


	2. Chapter 2

My eyes flickered open as the frigid ocean spray lapped at my face.

My head slumped over my chest and I was in pain. I raised my throbbing head slightly, my neck muscles began to spasm out of control, and I knew what was coming next.

I lifted my eyes in slow hesitation. There he stood in front of me, leaning casually against the bow. His eyes were on me and as i met his gaze heat rolled off him in waves.

Shit! I cursed under my breath.

The corner of his mouth jerked up in a sly grin. Apparently some expressions did not require translation. I glanced around the boat, my mind racing through escape scenarios. He closed the gap between us. He sat down next to me on the crowded boat floor. Every part of my body tensed and I refused to move a muscle in acknowledgement of him.

He ripped of a piece of bread from a loaf he must have had in his pocket and held it in front of my face close to my mouth.

"Hungry?" He asked cheekily. His voice was deep and gruff but there was a buttery lilt to the tone. I refused to take a bite.

He chuckled at my stubbornness and moved to place the bread back in his pocket.

"I want you to know that I have no intention of harming you." He said it as a matter of fact and it did not escape me that he sounded incredibly self assured.

"I know you can understand me." He said with a smirk and a seductive quality to his voice that indicated he was trying awfully hard. I could understand him, but that did not mean I was going to respond. Ass.

He sat there looking at me with a crooked and ever expectant smile. Did he expect me to thank him for his generosity? Arrogant bastard! I was chained to the mast of his ship no doubt being toted away to bed-slavery judging by they way he leered at me! Perhaps that is egotistical of me to assume. My mother would have called it practical.

His chivalrous statement exasperated me so that I couldn't resist the sarcasm. I turned my head evenly toward him and began to bat my eyelashes like a fool. In my present humiliating situation it helped a little to make fun of him.

He erupted into a gut splitting belly laugh, and in what sounded an awful lot like awe, he said, "you are spectacular!"

What?! This was becoming unbearable!

I grit my teeth and glared in to his glimmering eye's. "The very second you remotely let your guard down I will slit your throat." I asserted eerily calm.

His sparkling eyes turned just a hint colder and he leaned close enough to my ear that his lips brushed my skin as he whispered darkly, his voice as thick as chocolate, "Don't kill me just yet. I have plans for you." The hair on the back of my neck stood to attention. I hadn't noticed I was holding my breath until I let it escape as he stood to walk away.

It was incredibly irritating that he was so attractive.

He walked back to resume his practiced lackadaisical stance at the bow of the boat. I returned his fixed assured stare for a long moment, mostly attempting to reason him out, to ascertain the absurd situation entirely. What has happened here? I've been captured a slave in the middle of a baptism! That is what's happened! I would probably never see home again. I will most certainly die in the escape attempt i would most certainly attempt at my earliest opportunity. I couldn't determine weather i felt like crying or laughing. I could not believe this is how it would end. I could not believe it!

Well if I had to go I was damned sure taking this infuriating heathen out with me!

After several exasperating moments of glancing at him slyly only to learn that he had still been looking at me the entire time I rolled my eyes and began to take in the remainder of my surroundings. By some stroke of luck it appeared they hadn't taken anyone else. A small hint of pride hit me as I noticed how battered the northmen looked after attacking my village. We weren't a people to lie down and die. And we'd be dammed if you'd take our gold. We didn't have any! We were a poor people but we were savages too.

Most of the men were focused on rowing or eating and didn't pay my wandering eyes any attention. A few looked back in menace and innuendo. I had to admit i felt slightly vulnerable with my hands tied but I refused to look down as they tried to gain some kind of unspoken dominance. Men are ridiculous.

I leaned my head back against the mast pole I was tied to and exhaled a long breath. I will figure this out i thought. It will be alright. I will find my moment. It will appear to me just as my opponent notices. That is how i kill and that is how i will escape.

I felt a cold hand slide up my back. I had fallen asleep. Hot and putrid breath assaulted the side of my face as the assailants hand slid further up the back of my shirt. I stilled instinctively frozen. "Well don't you look good enough to eat" A thuggish brutal voice whispered into my side. His hand on my back was clammy and i could feel his forearm hair scratch my skin. I leaned in to the pervert i had yet to look at slightly. I wanted him to think i was in to it. He did. As soon as he leaned in about an inch closer I leaned my head back swiftly and rammed it straight in to his unsuspecting forehead. Blood sprang out from a deep gash at the top of his head and he stumbled back away from the blow. I was looking at him now. He had to be at least 20 years my senior and his pig like face and beady eyes were truly stomach turning. This was what i had to look forward to. Fighting off these north invaders at every turn. No! No! No!

Like a crack of thunder Rollo shot up out of his makeshift bed at the end of the boat, abruptly grabbed pig face off the floor like a sack of flour, and promptly tossed him over the side in to the icy water below.

Gasps and outraged shouts boomed at him from the watching crew. The one they call Ragnar started to laugh. Rollo stood fiercely and decidedly unmoved until they all settled down a bit.

"Slave or not, you will not touch this woman. Let me be clear. I will not hesitate to end your life."

The crowd fell silent. As he passed by me to return to his seat he stooped over me with that grin and said, "Nice head-butt".


End file.
